


A Misty Departure

by Nanna_Jemima



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Conversations, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, humans are confusing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 10:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7311241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nanna_Jemima/pseuds/Nanna_Jemima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a little thing I needed to get out of my head. Post-Blood and Wine Regis checks in with Dettlaff to see how he's doing; Could be better, could be worse. Needless to say: Absolutely massive Blood and Wine-spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Misty Departure

“Now there's a change of scenery.” Regis surveyed the misty landscape surrounding them with a critical eye.

“Leave me.”

“I'd really rather not. I'd be hard pressed to find you again in this fog. Really, Dettlaff, what possessed you to come here of all places?”

He received no response to that. Sitting down next to his friend he sighed.

“You're hard to track down.”

“And still I expected you sooner. In Beauclair you found me in a mere few days.”

“I had help. A joint effort really is so much more effective.”

“Why not call on the witcher's help again?”

“He has his own worries, at least one of which I dread the outcome of, but that's neither here nor there. He is not my concern at the moment. You are.”

“What kept you, then?”

“I... had to put out a few fires.” The look of guilt on Regis' face was clear, but Dettlaff was not looking at him.

“You owed them nothing of the sort. Nothing!”

“I wouldn't have if you hadn't killed her.”

“She deserved it!”

Regis sighed and shook his head. “You and she were not the only ones involved in this.”

“You speak of the witcher?”

“And myself.”

“He never should have meddled in the first place. Nor should you.”

“My friend, I don't think you realise how lucky you are that it was he who meddled.”

Dettlaff glanced at him sideways, looking no less skeptical.

“It is only because of him that you met with Syanna.”

“I was under the impression it was because of you.”

“And how many other witchers do you think I've befriended? How many others do you think figure on the list of people I can convince of the rationale behind listening and even talking to the monster they've been hired to kill?”

It was Dettlaff's turn to sigh as he looked away. There was no need to concede the point and they both knew it, so he remained silent.

“How are you feeling?”

“I should be asking you that. You were not yet fully recovered, when you came rushing to my aid.”

“Been better, and I managed to lay a few worries to rest, before I came after you. But now I'm asking you. How are you?”

The slumped shoulders told Regis everything he needed to know, but he nonetheless awaited his friend's reply.

“Why do I still miss her? After what she did? Why do I still love her?”

“I can't say, my friend. But I do know you're not the only one on whom she had that effect.”

That caught Dettlaff's attention.

“Ahh, now I see you're interested.” Regis sounded mildly amused.

It was with a bitter grimace the dark haired vampire groused: “She had others besides me, of course. I might've known.”

“Not so, my friend. Or, well, if she did, I don't know about it. No, I was thinking of her dearest sister, Her Most Enlightened Stubbornness the Duchess.”

“The Duchess,” Dettlaff repeated, “you don't like her? Thought you knew each other. She seemed pleasant enough for a human.”

“Really, Dettlaff? Are you asking me to tell you what happened?” Regis couldn't resist goading him a little, but he seemed impervious the attempt.

“You're the one who befriends them. And you did seem to like her, when we met at Orianna's,” Dettlaff insisted.

“So did you, as I recall. Didn't stop you from laying siege to her city. She liked you, too, by the way. At least the way Geralt recounted it.”

“The witcher spoke to you of me?”

“Ahhh he and I have spoken rather a lot about you over many a cup of my mandrake brew. Speaking of which, would you like some?” He pulled a bottle out of his satchel and offered it to his friend.

Dettlaff looked at it as if it might suddenly turn into something unpleasant. Eventually he accepted it and knocked back a gulp.

“Hmm, I wonder where I might find a still in this godsforsaken land. Wouldn't want to run out.” Regis nodded at the bottle Dettlaff still held in his hand, and he handed it back.

When Regis had taken a swig, Dettlaff spoke: “You won't leave me alone until you've told me whatever it is you came to tell me. Say your piece and be done with it.”

“Of course. Just as soon as you're ready to listen.” Regis passed the bottle back to Dettlaff. “Mandrake root won't be easy to find in decent quality here either. Alas this may very well be the last good batch for a while.”

“No one's forcing you to stay. Just like no one forced you to meddle.”

“You wish I hadn't?”

“One more and it would have been over regardless of your involvement.” For someone who knew him there was no mistaking the bitter tone.

“Would it really? You think Syanna would have revealed herself to you then?”

“I... perhaps not. But at least my part in it would be over.”

“Would you like to know who your fifth victim would have been?”

Dettlaff frowned at his friend, who looked suspiciously serene as they sat there on a toppled log, overgrown with moss in the middle of Crookback Bog.

“You're gonna tell me, whether or not I'd like it.” Dettlaff's resignation was palpable.

Regis chuckled. “I told Geralt that you and he are really quite alike. I stand by every word I said.” Upon the deepening of his friend's frown he continued: “Ahem, The Duchess.”

“Now what about her?”

“She was to be your last target. You were to tear her heart out.”

Silence reigned between them for a while. Not even a bird chirped in the forlorn swampland, the only audible sound being the bubbling breath of the swamp itself and the splashing a few drowners in the distance.

Dettlaff finally spoke again: “She would have me kill her own sister. Why?”

“For the slight of not being the one banished as a child. Among other things. I gather she had quite the list.”

“She intended to take the throne for herself?”

“Perhaps. Who can say? Maybe she would have been content to watch the duchy descend into chaos. She did seem to rather enjoy sowing strife. Or maybe she would indeed have taken what she saw as rightfully hers. Whatever the outcome, do you really think the bounty for the head of the Beast of Beauclair would have been lowered once the Duchess' blood was on your hands?”

Dettlaff snorted. “Men. They would all have died in the attempt.”

“Don't be so certain. Geralt is a formidable opponent. You know this. He was frustrating you immensely in that warehouse, before I intervened.”

“I would've been back eventually, even should he have bested me,” Dettlaff protested.

“And that's why I intervened. I would much rather be having this conversation with you now, than spending the next year or two nursing you back to health. Just like I also much prefer Geralt to be alive.”

Dettlaff at least had the good graces to look slightly embarrassed. “I would not expect you t-”

“But I would do it anyway, and you know it well enough, I should say.” Regis paused. “And that might very well cost me the friendship I have with Geralt.”

“He would have you choose between us?”

“If you had killed Anna Henrietta? I expect he might object to my aiding you, yes. She was his friend.”

“Was? She wasn't dead last I heard.”

“Indeed. But you didn't expect the Duchess to just forgive and forget that her hired monster slayer not only did not slay the monster, but even took direct action and delivered her sister to her death, did you? I assure you, it was not with her approval that we brought Syanna to you. We had to be rather covert about it.”

“But how would she come to know this, then? There was no one there but the four of us.”

“My friend, I realise your experience with humans makes you not remotely biased in their favour, but please understand that Geralt possesses a most excellent quality that I really do wish more of them would develop.”

Dettlaff remained silent, waiting for the lecture to continue.

“Honesty. And since he understood your position – no, no, don't scoff, you'd be surprised – he hoped that letting the two of you talk it out might result in a peaceful solution. I must admit that it was a hope I had instilled in him, because I expected the two of you to handle it better. But after meeting her the second time, I should probably have seen it.”

“Seen what?”

“Oh, Syanna was confident she could handle you. Nervous, yes, but confident that she knew you well enough to talk you down. There were two things she could tell you, theoretically: Either that her love had been real, which would have been a lie, or that it had indeed been a ruse and that she was terribly sorry and beg your forgiveness.” Regis paused and glanced at Dettlaff. “Though I do wonder if you would have given it.”

“Right now? No. Never. She could not even admit to it.” A clenched fist belied the seeming calm in Dettlaff's voice. “I... do not know what I would have done had she apologised. I'm not certain I would have known what to do.”

“And evenso I should have realised that apologising was never an option for her. Just like it could never be so for her sister either.”

“Only further attempts at manipulating me. The first thing she did, when I arrived, was to try and seduce me once again. Did she think me stupid?”

Regis coughed on a mouthful of brew. “I think, she may have, yes. Humans are wont to do stupid things for the people they love. And I'm sorry to have to point it out, old friend, but you seem to fit that rule rather well.”

Dettlaff sighed. “I really was, wasn't I? Stupid.”

“Quite. Though I dare say you weren't the only one. The lord of Dun Tynne, Roderick, for instance. Geralt said the man had been utterly enchanted by her and had let her have the run of his estate, moving her Cintrian brigand and his men in. She grew up at court, and they seem to be fed manipulation with every meal there. Ah, but we have digressed.”

“Yes, you were going to explain why Geralt went back to the Duchess.”

“Because she was the one to have hired him, for one, and as he told me himself, he never just leaves, even if a failed contract means that his employer will set their hounds on him.”

“They would do that?” There was genuine surprise and disapproval in Dettlaff's tone.

“Apparently, yes. If you talked a bit more with the humans you walk among, you might know that they only dislike witchers marginally less than our kind does. As for Geralt, his integrity bid him admit to his erroneous judgement and bring the Duchess the body of her sister.”

The dark vampire snorted. “I imagine she did not react well to that.”

“Goodness no. The dear Anarietta is about as temperamental as her deceased sister was, and she can be just as merciless. Geralt landed in prison.” Regis shook his head slightly. “Things were not looking good for his head.”

“He shouldn't have gone back, then.”

“Would you have left her to the ravens were you in his stead?”

“She didn't deserve such consideration! Not after what she did!”

“Maybe not, but if what she told Geralt about her banishment is true, then she certainly did deserve better than what she got then. Regardless of just desserts, it was Geralt's decision, and what he saw was a woman consumed with hatred, bitterness and an unhealthy thirst for vengeance.” At this Regis sent his friend a meaningful glance. “He took a somewhat calmer approach to her than I was able to, after we found out what she had done to you. Besides, even if Syanna didn't deserve a decent burial, Anarietta was not the one to wrong you. At least not directly. She ought not be robbed of the opportunity to say goodbye to her beloved sister, despite everything.”

Dettlaff's narrowed eyes were trained sharply on Regis. “Despite everything? What did the Duchess do?”

“Besides wanting to shorten my friend by about a head? Hah, irony of ironies. She was to have been the last of the five victims.”

“Yes, so you said. How do you know?”

“We tracked down the last of the letters. I have it here if you want to read it – Geralt let me have it, in case you'd be interested.”

Hesitantly, Dettlaff took the rolled-up piece of paper Regis offered him and read. He handed it back with a shake of his head. Regis patiently waited for any further reaction to be forthcoming. It was long before his friend finally opened his mouth again.

“We spoke. Of Nazair.”

“Yes, I heard. And meanwhile Geralt was lecturing me about the dangers of bringing you with me, and I was once again asking him to trust my judgement concerning you.”

“The witcher trusts you.”

“As I trust him. But that was not the conversation I wanted to tell you about. After another friend of ours managed to convince the council that Geralt should not be imprisoned nor executed for this, he and I went and tracked down this letter.” Regis held it up for emphasis. “And then we had a long talk over drinks in the cemetary. He filled me in on a couple of things he hadn't mentioned earlier.”

“Such as?”

“That evening at Orianna's. He had, of course, figured out that she was one of us.”

“She as good as told him. 'Known you for ages, literally'. She may as well have called it from a rooftop,” Dettlaff sneered disaparagingly.

“She hadn't needed to. That she – lone woman – managed to throw a grown man out the window from the opposite side of a room was apparently a bit too impressive to convince a seasoned witcher. No, while Orianna came down to meet us, the duchess told Geralt about Syanna, he said. The piece of jewellery the Cintrian had been sent to steal was The Heart of Toussaint, and it prompted Her Illustrious Petulance to confide in Geralt that the wine and the jewel indicated that her long lost sister might be involved in the blackmail.”

Regis' look soured as he recalled his friend's words. “Geralt said that the duchess was clearly aware of her sister's flaws and how it might be likely she was involved in things that she oughn't be, but that she also missed her terribly. I dare say such conflicting emotions have become the norm with regards to the dearly departed Syanna.”

A dejected nod was all the response Regis got for his observation.

“And more importantly: after that conversation, when Geralt walked the duchess out, she said something even more interesting. She told him that she had a good sense of people's qualities, and that she deemed you to be a sensitive man; sad and burdened by a terrible tragedy. A good man, but lost. I must say I couldn't have said it better myself. I think her candid assessment of you may have led Geralt to come to share my belief in you sooner.”

“And where exactly does this lead?” Dettlaff didn't bother to hide his impatience, though he couldn't hide the curiosity nor the embarrassment either.

“To the point where Geralt had a few choice expletives that I'd rather not repeat about Her Vacillating Excellence. She was aware of Syanna's flaws; she herself had even pointed out the potential connection. She had deemed you to be a good man, but the moment Syanna had to face the consequences of her actions, there was no compassion for the good man, and plenty for someone who would probably never have appreciated it. Very selective compassion, I'd say.”

“Compassion. The fifth of the virtues... you mentioned them that night at the toy maker's, but I didn't care about puzzles at the time.”

“Of course.” Regis nodded his understanding. “When she met us at Dun Tynne after you'd left, we told her that Syanna was responsible for the blackmail, to which she balked, and we admitted to her that you were the vampire responsible for the murders. If she had not erupted in an illustrious explosion immediately thereafter and promptly forgotten everything benign she ever thought of you, I'm fairly certain Geralt would have suggested she just invite you to Beauclair Palace for that talk with Syanna, since she was so adamant the woman not be let out of sight.”

“I doubt I would have come there.”

“I would have convinced you, my friend. As it were, none of us dared suggest anything remotely reasonable, as we would have been even less useful if locked up, which, I assure you, would have been the result.”

“You would hardly have been inconvenienced by that.”

“Perhaps not. But it would have unmasked me as well, which doubtlessly would have made things even worse. As it were, when you laid siege to the city, Geralt had just taken the chance to talk back to her – friends or not, he was out of patience, and I dare say being compared unfavourably to a beagle did not sit well with him.”

“She did what?!” Regis smiled at the outrage audible in Dettlaff's outburst. Clearly the witcher had made a better impression than his sulky friend would admit to.

“It was right about then that her own subjects started dying in the streets. When even that did not sway her compassion, we took matters into our own hands. I think the only real abduction in this entire tale, was us taking Syanna to you.”

“He could have come for a fight. He might still have fought me after I killed her. He was just about to, I could tell. What stayed his hand? Do you know?”

“His respect for my friendship with you. Hence his promise should you ever meet again without his loyalty to me to stay his sword.”

“Understandable.”

“See? I knew the two of you might understand each other. Did you know he once told me the exact same thing?”

Dettlaff shook his head and looked curiously at the grey haired vampire by his side.

“Oh, come now, we weren't always friends. It had to start somewhere. We had become traveling companions, and in helping him out of a bit of a bind, I also revealed to him what I am. After that he told me stay away on pain of death; albeit somewhat less eloquently.”

“But you didn't. It seems I am not the only one, who has made such a mistake, then.”

“Oh, I'd hardly call it a mistake. Before I left I managed to get out of him, what might make him come after me; what the bounty would have to be.”

Regis fell silent, and his eyes became distant as he reminisced about that round-about conversation about prices.

“And?” Dettlaff prodded and brought his friend back to the present.

“Nothing. Or at least nothing, as long as I don't start being a threat to those he's meant to protect. I believe his words were, that there'd be no bounty high enough to make him come after me. Of course after that I couldn't stay away for good. The man is stubborn, but he sees surprisingly clearly, when it comes to the qualities of the creature he's faced with.”

“Our conversation at Orianna's. Is it really how he works? That he would rather help a monster than kill it? I dared not believe it, but you spoke highly of him, and I admit he did come through. It was... unexpected.”

“My friend, I have it on good authority, namely his own mandrake-affected word, that instead of killing a troll – a troll! - who was bothering the local humans, he instead helped the troll with his alcoholism. He's even managed to solve a marital spat between trolls. More recently he's been helping non-humans in Novigrad, which in his terms not only includes elves and dwarves but also dopplers, succubi, godlings and suchlike.”

Dettlaff frowned. “That sounds more like drunken exaggeration.”

Regis lifted a finger. “The mandrake does not deceive. Oh, it's such a pity things had to go so wrong. You might have enjoyed his company, and instead you did your utmost to provoke a fight with him. Tsk tsk tsk. He even considered going to the Unseen Elder, if we couldn't get Syanna out of the palace. He got as far as getting Orianna to reveal the location.”

“He would have died, then.”

“Perhaps. Then again, the man seems to have a knack for achieving the impossible. And for surviving things he shouldn't.”

“If you say so.”

“And I do. You did not travel with him, Dettlaff. The wizard that left me the way you found me a few years ago – Vilgefortz was his name – I couldn't tell you what became of him as I wasn't exactly around to witness it. I asked Geralt. He killed him, though he did at least admit it hadn't been easy.” Regis paused briefly and then jolted with sudden remembrance, and his face twisted into a disapproving scowl. “By the way, you may want to steer clear of Orianna for a while. Geralt mentioned that she was rather cross that her orphanage had become a slaughterhouse during your siege. Her supply of young blood ran dry.”

“I take it she is the remaining concern you mentioned, then? The witcher let that slide?”

“For now,” Regis confirmed, “though, I am certain he will return at some point.”

Dettlaff nodded and once again they let the silence hang between them.

“You said you owed them. What for?”

“Not them. Him. I owed Geralt. I did not want to go to the Elder, and he did not trust you not to kill Syanna. It seems he saw more clearly than I in that matter.” Regis added the latter part with a grimace. “In order to persuade him to bring her to you, I swore she would come to no harm. That I would see to it.”

Dettlaff turned fully to look at Regis. “Why would you do that?”

“Because it was the only way to convince him. Elsewise he would have gone to the Elder. You would have been forced to meet us. It could only have ended in a fight with either one or both of you dead. And I would have had to choose a side. I desperately wanted to avoid that.”

“And so you swore to protect her,” Dettlaff concluded with a sorrowful shake of his head. “You shouldn't have.”

“Yes. I did and should. And failed rather spectacularly at that. If I had protected her, there would have been no failure on his part. There would have been a living person who could have been held responsible and perhaps forgiven, but with her death, Syanna's guilt and absolution both became moot. All that was left to place blame on was you, and proof of your demise was conspicuously absent from Geralt's resumé. All because I failed to protect the girl. Making sure Geralt got out of prison was the least I could do after that.”

Dettlaff nodded slowly; thoughtfully. “With whom would you have stood if it had come to blows?”

Regis sighed. “Geralt asked me the same question, before we went to meet you.”

“And what was your answer?”

Regis looked pained. “Him. I would have stood with him. You went too far, Dettlaff. Much too far. You put everything at risk.”

They looked at each other. Neither needed to voice what such a fight might have meant for either of them. Every vampire knew.

“Thank you.”

“Whatever for?”

“Not lying about that.”

“My friend, I think you've been lied to enough to last you at least few decades.”

“And I shall not let it happen again.”

“You mean to keep your distance, then?”

“Yes. I don't understand them. Them and their games.”

“Nor will you come to understand them if you do not interact with them. I really think you shou-”

“No. Out of the question. I am done with them, and you can keep them.”

“Very well. Please just remember that they are a widely varied bunch. If Geralt had been more like the spurious Rhenawedd, he would not have cared at all for who was to blame. He would simply have fought you and taken his bounty.”

“I take it he didn't get that.”

“Of course not. For that, your head was required and you're still here. He did get to keep the vineyard, though, thanks to the bard's gift of the gab. Charming little place that he'll stay in once in a rare while, when he's not out on the Path. Oh yes, and he's persona non grata at court – hence why the duchess has not been told that she was to be the fifth victim. Neither of us were inclined to approach her. We are both rather fond of our heads being firmly attached to our necks, and I doubt she'll appreciate anyone casting aspersions on her dearly departed sister. Come to think of it, not being welcome at court anymore also means he will not be required to attend any formal events. That might just be the best thing that happened, given how much he despises such things.” Regis stopped abruptly, when he noticed Dettlaff looking at him askance.

“I do not care about the witcher,” Dettlaff objected, though they both knew it was half-hearted at best.

“He cared enough about you to let you go.”

“No, Regis, he cared enough about you to let me go. And now, if you'll let me, I shall put some distance between myself and any further conversation.”

“Shall we meet?”

“Maybe.”

“Very well, I'll return to Dillingen again, and I'll be stopping by Beauclair once in a while, too. And Dettlaff, if ever you're in trouble or in need of help. You can just ask. You don't have to handle it alone.”

The nod was only barely perceptible, before the vampire disappeared and a dark mist withdrew through the white fog of the bog.

“And I really do hope you won't give up on them completely,” Regis whispered to the grey landscape, before he, too, disappeared in a dark cloud. “It is a lonely road otherwise.”


End file.
